“That’s your bed made. What else shall I do? Remember, this is my last visit,” called the carer, her cheerful sing-song voice echoing around the empty hall.“I know, I haven’t forgotten, so there is a gift on the kitchen table.” Emily had heard such negative stories about carers, but Amy was delightful. The granddaughter sheContinue reading “I’ll never be young again. A short story.”
Category Archives: Abigail Thorne Unedited
Stealth Desk 2
Where am I? I’m still close to home, although I plan to get much braver and travel further in the future. I’m lucky in that there are so many beautiful spots to settle within a five-minute walk of my house.I’m being more stealthy than last time, as I’m sitting in a neighbour’s field. I haveContinue reading “Stealth Desk 2”
Book review
Intuitive Editing. A creative and practical guide to revising your writing. Tiffany Yates Martin. Tell me fellow Authors. Where does the magic happen for you?Is in the writing or in the revising?Does it matter? I am a drafter. For me, it’s writing that initial first draft that is magical. Once the story is on paper,Continue reading “Book review”
Stealth desk
Where did I go? Today was a trial run, so I stayed close to home in a small piece of woodland on our property. There is no need to be stealthy here, but folks are so friendly that if the neighbours see me, they will come over for a chat. The whole point is havingContinue reading “Stealth desk”
Paradela
Another poem today, this time much more lighthearted. I wrote this when we visited a fiesta in a nearby village. It has a small population of two thousand people. The name Paradela means ‘A stop on the Road.’ It seemed appropriate. Galicia is sometimes surprising. Paradela On Monday Paradelais a sleepy little town. On TuesdayContinue reading “Paradela”
Misty Mornings
Summer days at Casa Batan almost always begin with shrouds of mist. Misty mornings that come before the heat of the day takes hold are one of the privileges of living here. It covers over mountain topsand hides the rolling hills.And winds its way up riversdimming swirls and rills It dances through the forestwith theContinue reading “Misty Mornings”
The baker’s shop. A memoir.
Almost all the happy memories I have of my childhood revolve around food. My mum enjoyed cooking and my dad enjoyed eating. Not only was my mother an excellent cook, but she was an extrovert, sociable hostess and, in the early sixties, these were admirable qualities.Memory is fickle and changes with family stories and perception,Continue reading “The baker’s shop. A memoir.”
Locks, Dogs and Gypsies.
Scones
I recently watched a TV cooking competition on YouTube. The judges asked the contestants to cook something which was a family tradition and reminded them of home.One girl made scones. She told the judges that every day after school she went to her gran’s house, and her granny made the best scones. Her face litContinue reading “Scones”
The mystery of the metallic manure.
When we moved to the Galicia fourteen years ago, we had never lived in the countryside before. We couldn’t speak either the local Galician language used by our neighbours or Castilian Spanish. Over the years, there have been many misunderstandings because of both language and lack of rural experience. I can’t hope to explain howContinue reading “The mystery of the metallic manure.”
Abigail Thorne 